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I wish to thank my editor, JP. Without his close supervision and eye for detail, this story would not have been possible! The Passage By Anon Allsop Chapter 1 The year is 1654. As a Fifteen-year old English boy, standing on the sun-bleached deck of the Endbreeze, life could get no better than this. From under the shadows of her gently rippling sail, I scanned the coastline of Boston Town. This young colony would become my new home, continuing an adventure that began for me months ago in England. Set back in the harbor was a thriving town, supported by fishing and cargo vessels loaded down with trade goods for mother England. Shielding my eyes, I scanned the docks and saw that several tall ships were tethered there. I wondered if perhaps my new master owned one of those great ships, or possibly one of the companies that supplied the goods that were being lowered down into their holds. What information about the man who purchased his passage to the America's had been very sparse. I only knew that my new master, Isaiah Evans was young and very wealthy, and a prominent figure in this town. Ever since I had left home, my dream was to set out for the New World and hopefully capture part of it for myself. Owning a small parcel of land somewhere out here, perhaps just beyond the colonies where the world was yet raw. I inhaled the sea air deeply, as I climbed down to the boat taking me toward the shore. Yes, just owning a piece of this young land would be a great honor to my father and mother whom I had left far behind in England. Since I was from a poor family, I had resorted to the only way of traveling to the New World: by selling myself into indentured servitude. Using this new act, through an agent of Master Evans, I secured passage on the Endbreeze and set sail almost a half a year ago. The voyage had been long and tedious, and since this vessel was a merchant ship, we had been compelled to stop in several ports around Europe before setting out for the colonies. Thankfully, as each stroke of the bo'sun's oar carried me closer and closer to this new land, I smiled with anticipation of what this world would bring to me. Behind us, the Endbreeze was anchored and waiting for her turn at the docks, heavily laden with trade goods for the fledgling colony. As the boat touched ground, I hopped off and quickly hurried up to the dry sand, trying to escape the next rush of surf as it washed ashore. With a tip of my hat to those still inside the boat, I hurried away. Up on the wooden dock that was bustling with people moving the merchandise from one area to another, I took pause, smiling at those inhabitants milling about on their daily business. I singled one out, and began to walk toward him, hoping he would know where I could find my benefactor and new master. Approaching a balding man, I quickly looked at a paper that, until now, had been tucked in my coat pocket. "Excuse me, good sir, could you please tell me where I could find..." Once again I glanced at the name on the paper, even though I had read it many times, "Master Isaiah Evans?" Chapter 2 The man studied my face for a moment then laughed, "Son, this village is full up with dandies enough to pop out your English eyeballs! And here you are, looking for a Master Evans? Do I look like the harbor welcoming committee?" His thick Irish brogue spat out his contempt for my English ancestors. I slowly backed away as he laughed and elbowed another who was standing next to him, soon both were breaking into a fit of booming laughter, all at my expense. It was enough that it sent my young feet racing away, trying to put distance between myself, and the two Irishmen. I paused at the edge of the cobblestone street, trying to figure which way I should go to find Master Evans, when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned to face an elderly man. "Master Evans?" I asked, quickly removing my hat. He smiled. "No, lad, I'm not Master Evans." He sized me up and down for a moment. "I know where thee can find him, that is, if thee first tell me thy reason for seeking Master Evans?" "Certainly," I said placing my hat had back upon my head. "My name is Duncan Bailey. I am indentured to Master Evans. He is expecting me." He looked down toward the ground and smiled. "I'll take thee to him... but I must warn you that he is...in somewhat of a fix right now." He took me by my shoulder and slowly ushered me toward a door that was low enough that even I had to duck down to enter. "Once thee and I are alone, I will explain." I allowed myself to be directed into the small room, where only the simplest of accommodations were afforded this old man. Against the wall was a half-built rocker, apparently in the middle of construction. He pointed to a chair at his table and waited until I sat, then seated himself with a groan. "Now...about Master Evans?" I asked as he finally settled in. The old man moved uneasily in his chair. "Master Evans has found himself in a bit of a fix, my good fellow. It would seem that thy master has stretched the truth to the elders in his village once too often." "He lied to them? Why would that matter to anyone?" I snickered, "Surely Master Evans can handle himself enough to soften the anger of the village elders." He smiled. "About half a year ago, he had let it be known that his wife would be arriving from England...then, Master Evans was accused of being with another man's woman. He wasn't but that doesn't help him in the least, there are many in the village who believe it and think that he had killed his wife before he left England, and was now running from the King's gallows." I sat up straighter. "Did he?" I asked. The old fellow laughed, then began brushing dried crumbs from a long ago lunch onto the floor. "Thy master was never married. He thought it might get him somewhere within Boston by fabricating this falsehood... now, unless he can produce his wife soon, he will be forced out of the village, losing all of his assets to a few of the elders." "Seems like it would be easy for a man with wealth to find some wench that could play the part of his bride?" I watched the old man stand and pull a chunk of bread from a clay pot and slowly carry it to the table. As he sat down he laughed. "Were it only that easy, my young lad." He sliced off two hearty pieces and passed one to me. "The village has a list of all the young females that enter Boston from Mother England, and they will be watching them for further signs of deceit." "What of the surrounding areas? Surely one could make their way in from there?" I asked, pulling a portion of the bread off and eating it. "Aye, but elders are watching everyone...it was only by chance I found thee first!" He bit down on his bread and chewed. "There may just be a way for thee to help thy good Master...and help me in the process." "My good sir, I'm not sure what you have in mind. I'm just indentured to Master Evans, I know of no young females that can assist his charade," I responded in puzzlement; I didn't know where this old man was going with our conversation. "I am too new to this land." He drummed his hand against the table. "It would be unseemly for a lass to be out, on her own, crossing the ocean. Unless of course, she were married," he thought aloud, his eyes slowly filling with the cunning of a fox. He inched closer, his face only inches from my own. "There are none that know of you...just how old are you lad?" I was even more puzzled! "What does it matter? If I were 16, 20 or 25... I would still be unable to assist Master Evans!" Surely this old man could see the logic in my statement, or had his brain been addled by some sudden infliction? He leaned back against the chair, "He knows nothing of what I plan, yet doing this...favor for Master Evans, might be a way of releasing you from your servitude early..." I sat for a moment as his words soaked into my mind. "What could possibly end my servitude sooner? What is this scheme of yours?" "With this." He smiled as he held out a strange necklace. I studied the charm upon the end as it spun a slow circle. "And what will this charm do for me? Am I to use it to buy my freedom?" I started to reach out and grasp it, but he quickly pulled it away. "Don't be so hasty, lad...if thee agree to do this, thee has much to prepare and very little time to do it in. Thankfully, none know thee are here and we could change you back after their scrutiny died down." "What is that cheap trinket going to do?" I laughed, shaking my head. "I wouldn't laugh, young one, there is a great power in this small necklace." He gently laid it down upon the table. "It has been around for hundreds of years...perhaps even longer!" Smiling, I folded my arms. "And what is this great power that it can wield? How will it help me, and assist Master Evans?" He held out a single finger, pointed upward. "One touch...just one single touch can alter who ye are into an entirely different form. One minute you might be a strapping young lad, the next minute transmuted into that of, say...a young lass." I rolled my eyes and began to stand. "What you speak of is witchcraft! It is impossible!" He held my arm lightly, stopping me from outright leaving. "Are thee willing to take a chance on it? Willing to give up a couple of short fortnights to try?" "If it weren't for the opportunity to shorten my servitude, I'd laugh at you. But you create a compelling argument, one that I suppose, I should at least consider." He smiled, patting my arm. "In the end, thee can always argue with him and say that thee are leaving him and return to England...only, thy true self would never go, instead thee could become thyself once again...as a free lad." "And what is in all of this for you?" I narrowed my eyes, searching for some sign of deceit. He gave me a look of surprise. "I am but a poor man. Look around thyself, all that thy see here is what I own. Once, long ago I was quite a furniture maker, but that was long ago...I am but an old man...wanting nothing more than to end his days in comfort. Thee doing this for Master Evans, and for a humble old man bringing thee to him, I should be paid handsomely." I nodded, actually believing him. The lure of his proposal was intriguing... if only I could summon the courage to attempt his offer. If his magic worked, could I dress in the frocks of a young bride? If what he suggested was possible, I might be able to cut off many years of servitude...and strike out on my own much sooner than I had anticipated. After several minutes of silent contemplation, I nodded. "I'll try and help in this way...but you will need to find a way to help me pass as this female. On top of that, guarantee that I will be able to return to that which I am now. There is no way that I can do this on my own so I'm sure I'll need help!" He held up a bony finger and smiled. "We must first come up with thy costume, for the necklace to work, it must be new and unsoiled by any other." He stood up, gently placing the necklace back into his pocket. "I know just the person who can help us...a dressmaker only two blocks over. Eloisa is her name, and she gave the strange necklace to me. She is a very close friend who will help us, and not speak to others about what we plan." I held up my hand, pointing to the necklace in his pocket. "How is this to work?" "If the feminine finery is new, the costume will transform thee into a female thee would have been, had thou been born that way! Thy body would contort and reform until it fit what thou wore!" The old man stood up quickly, heading toward the door. I was left feeling that I may have made a grievous mistake...but freedom in this great land was well worth any attempt of releasing me from my servitude. No matter how costly it may be to my honor...or humility. "And if it is touched against clothing which has been worn by another?" I asked as the curiosity began to gnaw at me. "Thee would only become a copy, an exact duplicate of the soul who would have worn the item last," he replied, as if it were so blatantly obvious that I should know. "We must hasten, lad if we are to aid thy Master!" As he laid his hand upon the door he turned toward me. "I will return as soon as I am able, use my bed and rest awhile. Remain quiet, do not go outside or allow anyone other than myself to enter." He pulled the door closed behind him, engulfing the room suddenly in its silence. Chapter 3 I stretched out in his bed, trying to relax as he suggested. Sleep did not come easily, yet during the old man's absence I did manage to rest. I had no real idea how long I slumbered upon his bed, but was awaken by a voice just outside the door. I quickly leapt to my feet and crossed the room, placing my ear to the doors surface and my foot at the bottom to prevent easy entry. I felt the push of the door against the side of my foot. "Open the door, lad." I recognized the voice of the old man and hesitated to remove my foot that blocked the swing of the door. "Are you alone?" I asked, fearful of a trick. "There is none about, aside from Eloisa and myself." I removed my foot and opened the door just a crack, peering through the sliver into the daylight. "Come on, lad, these items are heavy," the old man grumbled. I quickly stepped aside and allowed them entry, closing the door as soon as both he and the seamstress had passed. I followed him to the other side of the room where he laid a great pile of cloth upon his bed. The old man rubbed his hands together and nodded, still looking down at his bed. "My friend, Eloisa, has come through this day." He indicated the woman with him. "We have everything thee will need to pull off this ruse." I picked up a corset and examined the whale-bone stays that lined its surface. "And all of this is for me? Just how many outfits did this dressmaker give you?" My eyes wavered between the two of them. His smile left his face as his gaze drift from me to the pile, at that moment the woman finally found her voice as she pushed her graying hair from her face. "Well...why only one! There is only one outfit here." "How do you expect me to walk...wearing all of these garments? Is this what every female wears?" I shook my head with complete surprise. "Surely, you can't expect me to wear everything you have here?" She nodded, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. "It is no more, and no less, than what every woman who has the money will wear..." The old man interrupted her, speaking with finality. "The medallion will complete the ruse, you must only stay in this female form for twelve hours...although I would at least suspect a week, maybe slightly longer would be worth it to Master Evans." He smiled and peered into his pocket, carefully removing the necklace by its chain. Once again, the thought of ending my servitude early played upon my reluctance to donning this alien disguise. After several minutes of quiet soul-searching, I gave in. "Tell me what I have to do." The woman, Eloisa, waived her finger, "First you must completely undress. Once you are unclothed, you must clean thy body...no regal woman would ever be caught wearing clothing with the stench that you have." "These female changes...are you sure they can be undone?" I asked, picking up the washing cloth the old man offered. "Most definitely, my good lad. When thee and thy Master Evans are no longer suspect...I will be here to change thee back in an instant." He smiled and made a motion for me to hurry with a wave of his fingers. I cast him a sullen glance. "This had better be worth it," I grumbled, slowly reaching for the string on my shirt. "Ma'am, can you please avert your eyes?" She gave a short laugh. "I can, but once you use that medallion, the point will be moot." "And why is that?" I asked. "You will be no different than me...a woman." Her words raced into my ears like a knife! "Why then don't you use it? You are more suitable to being his wife than I am!" I was beginning to feel the fear in what I was about to do. "I would be missed. You're young, and we have checked the ships logs... no one knows you are here, and you would not be missed." She pointed toward the water and swirled her finger downward in the air, with finality, she turned away and faced the wall. Chapter 4 Tossing the cloth back into the bowl of water, I stood completely naked before them. "I am clean and ready...what is next?" I asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed standing before a middle-aged woman and wearing nothing on at all. Even though I had placed myself behind objects that would restrict her view, it didn't help hide the embarrassment I was feeling. "We must dress thee as a regal woman for thy charade to succeed." The man spoke in old world English, from what I could recall...the woman's language was more like my own. "My friend here will give explicit directions for how thee should dress. For this to work, thee must follow her directions without nary a question. Once thee has been dressed, I will change thy form using the necklace." Eloisa began to sort through the items and finally handed the first of the garments to me. "The first thing you must put on is a smock, also called a shift. This is a refined woman's innermost layer of clothing. It is worn by all women of all classes." I took it and slowly pulled it on, she continued to explain what its purpose was. "This is a basic undergarment worn to protect a lady's outer clothing from sweat and body oils." I waited until she adjusted it upon my body. When I was finally covered, my fear grew less and less. "Since your dress is a low-cut French gown rather than a gown with a high bodice, I chose a linen smock with a low, square neck for you, decorated with blackwork and narrow lace around the neck opening." "Ma'am, these terms mean nothing to me. Will I truly be regaled in this form long enough to have need of them?" I frowned at them both. "You will have to continue to dress yourself if you plan on remaining as a woman for any length of time. It would only make good sense to know what you are wearing and why," she scolded, then thrust another item into my hands. "Learn the names for them. You may never know, for the question won't be asked when you are ready...they only come when you aren't." "These are your stockings, put them on, dear." I took them from her and gave the old man another frown. "Pay attention young man! These are made of fine silk yarn, and you will have to hold them up by a garter, a thin ribbon tied just below the knee." I watched her turn and remove the corset from the bed, and inwardly I cringed. "Now it's time for the corset. Sometimes you may hear them referred to a 'pair of bodies', but whatever it's called...you must wear it. A woman's corset is a close-fitting bodice stiffened with reed and whalebone. Women don't wear corsets every day, but your petticoat bodices gives a fashionable enough silhouette for relaxed home wear--but for court, or meeting your husband..." I shot the old man a reluctant glare. "I trust you're happy?" He only smiled at my discomfort as she began to wrap it around me and continued to explain. "You will need a corset to give you the flat front line required for your French gown. Sometimes a smaller-busted woman can get away with a few bones down the front of her gown bodices and rarely needs to wear a corset. Unfortunately for you, this one is all I had at hand." She smiled, as if she really wasn't sorry at all. She then slipped a busk of horn down the front of the corset to make it very stiff and straight. I again glanced at the old man, this time with fear in my eyes. "You said that the medallion will transform the body to fit the clothing...or something like that?" He nodded his reply. "Then, if what this woman said is true... it will be a substantial bosom that I will possess?" I quickly looked at Eloisa and frowned. "I don't think I wish for a large feminine bosom!" She frowned and hesitated. "Do you think a man of his substance would be interested in a flat busted child? I doubt it. No, you will be just fine with what you end up with...the breasts of an adult woman." "I think I will be a better judge of this," I hissed. "Especially when even after your change, I'll still only be shy of sixteen!" "Nonsense!" she snapped, ignoring my griping. "You may be of that age on the inside, but you'll look considerably older. Besides, he had already informed the village that you are eighteen!" Her comment left me dumbfounded, unable to think of anything else to say! Eloisa admired the fit of the corset, as she drew the strings tighter and tighter. "There, this will do. Now, the Spanish farthingale is next, which is sometimes called a 'verdingal', it's is a cone-shaped hoop skirt which gives the A-line shape that has become so fashionable at court in the past few years." She begins to walk to the back out of my eyesight, still talking. "Some outfits call for farthingales stiffened with rows of rope, which give a softer line, as well as some stiffened with willow bents, which create a very rigid shape indeed. For meeting your husband, though, I chose a willow-bent Spanish farthingale made of red taffeta." Eloisa slipped it over my head and tied it to the corset at the sides. "This keeps it from slipping down and moving, and helps transfer the weight of heavy skirts to the torso rather than having it rest all on your hips." "I can barely breathe!" I complained, my breath shortened from the corset. "You'll get used to it," she replied sternly. "We all do." Without a beat, she continued. "Next comes the 'rowle' or 'Bumroll'. Some women wear small, padded crescents around their hips to make skirts spring out more. The French gown I made has pleats that are stuffed with batting and stiffened buckram near the top. This gives them more spring, but perhaps a bumroll would give you an extra 'oomph' to your skirt." Even though I was adamantly shaking my head, it had already been decided for me as Eloisa tied it around my waist. "Are you keeping track of all this, laddie?" she said with a laugh. "I'm trying," I said frowning, which caused her to snicker softly. "So now that we have all the structural items on, it's time for our creativity to come to the fore. Usually this is where a woman dons on her petticoat. However, the dress we've chosen is a French gown, and a petticoat is not really suited to the French Gown I have made. The skirts of this kind of gown are open in front to show off a fancy forepart, which is attached to either the front of the farthingale itself, or to a fitted, a-line skirt, called a kirtle." Eloisa stepped back for a moment. "Yes, I think you should wear a kirtle instead." "I'm not sure whether I should be happy or not." I groused again, because the weight of this dress was growing with each item she placed upon me. "I plan to have you wear a kirtle skirt over your farthingale. This green satin kirtle fits particularly well over this farthingale, and best of all I have had it already pressed." She seemed almost giddy in her excitement, almost as if she were a child dressing a doll. "After looking over several embroidered foreparts, I think this one will go well with the gown we've chosen." I saw her glance toward a red velvet gown, sticking out from a bag she had carried in with her. She smiled and pulled it from the bag. Deftly, she began removing a gold silk forepart from the green satin kirtle and quickly stitched the new forepart on, the old man was directed to lace the matching sleeves into the armholes of the gown. "All of this is much too tight on me!" I complained, "It's heavy and warm!" "You are a long way from done, at least when this is all over, you will have an appreciation of how much effort it takes for us to get ready for our men. Now, quit your complaining and put this on!" She handed me a white silk partlet embroidered with a network design in white silk "whitework" embroidery. This partlet tied under my arms, and filled in the low neckline of her gown quite a lot. She smiled as she adjusted the fit. "This will make you look quite beautiful and stylish!" Eloisa clasped her hands and smiled. "At last! Time for the beautiful gown!" The old man helped her get me into the damnable French style gown, making sure the partlet was evenly tucked around the neckline, and laced it closed in front, as Eloisa fiddled with the fashionable large shoulder rolls to make sure they were straight. She then began to shake out the skirt so that it lay evenly around. "I never would have imagined that there was this much clothing under a female's garment! How do you remember everything?" I sadly shook my head in despair. "You will have to learn them all; either that or hope Master Evans has a maid or two for you." She headed toward the bed to search through the items, returning with one in her hand. "What is that which you carry?" I asked, trying to see what she held. It was a woman's shoe. They had thin leather soles and uppers of leather, velvet or some type of fabric. I couldn't see them clearly the way she was holding them. Copious amounts of the dress fabric that I wore kept them entirely from my view. Finally after much grumbling, she held them aloft for me to see. They were lined with wool, taffeta and satin. This particular pair was actually red leather "latchet" shoes, as she called them. The shoes have two side-flaps that fasten over a central tongue, tying with a yellow ribbon. She disappeared beneath my skirt and forced my foot into them one at a time, I winced in pain as she began to lace them. "Good lord, woman! They are much too small for my foot!" I shouted. "Take them off or I'll never be able to walk again!" The old man looked me squarely in the eye and growled. "The size is imperative as to a woman's small feet. Once the necklace is used, the pain thee are feeling will be moot. Thy feet will adjust to the size of this shoe, so quit thy yapping like some young cur!" I frowned and gradually shifted from one foot to the other in a vain attempt to alleviate the discomfort I was feeling. "Follow me." Eloisa took me by the elbow and sat me down at the table. Before me was a mirror. From the neck down I looked like a boy wearing a dress, although it was very tight. In surprise I stared, even though I had nothing up top, the corset did give the illusion of a slight amount of cleavage. Finally able to take the weight off of my trapped feet, I gave a sigh of relief. My hair was already slightly long for boys in the colony, but in England I was quite fashionable. I kept it in a rolled ponytail tied off with a blue ribbon given to me by my father. In the mirror I watched as Eloisa removed the blue ribbon and let my hair fall to my shoulder blades. She then placed a linen cape over the gown. "This is to keep hair and hair oils away from the delicate silks." She then began brushing the knots from my hair with a bone comb. I winced in pain. "Wouldn't it be easier to just pull it out by the roots?" I said sarcastically through gritted teeth. Her response was to whack me on top of my head as a mother might discipline her child. I only glared at her smiling reflection after that. She rolled the front of my hair into two poufs, using some type of substance to add body, and the rest was braided into a thick brown braid. She then threaded a blunt needle with a ribbon, which she called a 'hair tape', and proceeded to 'sew' the braid around the back of my head to keep it in place. "I look like a fool," I grumbled. As I watched, she fixed a small bag, or 'cawle', as she called it, over the braid. "I look like I'm wearing a one of your North American beaver tails on my head." I laughed gently touching it with my hand. Once again I felt the smack of her comb. She began looking through various head-wear she brought along--a rather out-of-date French hood, a small flat cap, and several hats of differing shapes, sizes and colors. Finally selecting one, Eloisa decided to place a hat of white and gold brocade, embellished with several white feathers and a beautiful hatpin of enameled gold. "The townspeople will see right through this silly outfit! I will be hung from the gallows the instant they see that I am in disguise!" I sadly shook my head in frustration! Behind me Eloisa has been preparing the makeup that I will be wearing. "You are forgetting - when they see you, the magic will already have completed you." I glanced toward the elderly man who said, "Eloisa is correct; once thee have transmuted, thou may no longer claim to be that of a male. Thou will truly be that of a female...and thou will be able to perform as a woman, in any event." I lowered my eyes to the table, the realization of what they said sinking in. I was to become a young female! The wife of an American nobleman... a colonist! My thoughts were broken as Eloisa began to prattle on about some nonsense. "You wouldn't often wear makeup, but for this appearance with your Master Evans, it really is required." Eloisa applied a white foundation to my face and to what will become my bosom, then began applying red "ceruse", or vermilion, to my lips. She followed it with a touch of ceruse to my cheeks. She backed away from me and looked at the old man. "Something's missing," he whispered. Eloisa nodded and pointed her finger in the air. "Jewelry!" She quickly rummaged through a small wooden box and chose a rich jeweled choker, of garnets and pearls. This feminine item she placed upon my neck. It had a pendant depicting a dolphin, decorated with diamonds and emeralds. "It's interesting to see the holes in your ears. Were you planning on doing some pirating?" She laughed at her own joke. "At some point, I'll be needing these back." She followed this with ruby and pearl earrings. "I had it done on my way over; the sailors said that it's done on boys when they cross the ocean." I rolled my eyes as I felt the weight drag each lobe slightly. She then began slipping some bodkins tipped with pearls into the poufs of my hair. Not quite satisfied with the effect, Eloisa also dons a long gold chain with a large pendant to the front center of the bodice I was wearing. She walked toward the bed and picked something up from the pile. "It's a rather cloudy day and there's a slight chance of rain. This forces us to have you wear some protective clothing, so we'll need to put a 'safeguard', or protective outer skirt, over your gown to keep any unfortunate mud or water from it during your ride across town to meet your husband. A cape should conceal your bodice and sleeves." Eloisa smiled and looked at the old man. "Master Evans's young wife is ready to meet her husband!" I glanced toward myself in the mirror. "He looks like a female even without thy use of the transforming necklace," I heard the old man telling Eloisa. "Imagine how pretty she'll be once you've touched it against the clothing she now wears," the woman spoke with glee as she began to gather up her unused items. In the mirror I watched as the old man swung out the necklace and allowed it to touch my neck, sliding slightly down into the collar of the dress I was wearing. I felt the cool metal...or was that a slight tingle, I could not be sure. "What now?" I asked. "We wait for the changes," came the only reply I heard. Chapter 5 The reflection of Eloisa in the mirror spoke volumes, yet the old man's comment left no doubt as to what my actions will be forced to become. "It begins." In a strange way, my reflection was soon to become a window into my soul. I watched in abject fascination as my eyes changed subtly, becoming more open and losing their squintiness! Leaning into the mirror, I studied my lashes as they darkened slightly, growing longer and curving upward in the process to seemingly impossible lengths! A strange feeling washed throughout my body as I focused upon my face. My brows appeared thinner and seemed to become arched slightly, more feminine than they had been only moments earlier! Even my cheekbones slowly elevated upward until they appeared more pronounced and higher, as if moved by unseen hands! Touching my cheek brought another realization to my eyes, no longer were my nails round and short...they had become more feminine with an oval shape! While long nails were unusual for the average 'working' woman in the colonies, my nails seemed to extend just a fraction beyond the tips of my fingers. This was a natural effect as I was supposed to be a part of the elite class of the Boston Town colony. Slowly my eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of my chest to where the minimal cleavage I had once possessed when Eloisa laced the corset on me. Gradually, it began to deepen, further and further it pushed outward, filling and plumping up with large globes of female flesh! I sat and trembled as they began to fill out the loose cups of the clothing I wore, continuing on further until they seemed to threaten spilling from the very gown I had on! "They're still growing! Make...make them stop!" I whimpered softly as I watched in fear! My voice sounded strangely to me, I touched the choker on my throat, no longer laying oddly because of my Adam's apple. "I...I sound like a...a girl!" "No, honey..." Eloisa patted my shoulder. "You ARE a girl, a young woman in fact." "And thee are getting womanlier, if that be a word!" observed the old man. Beneath the gown I could feel other unseen changes. I could tell that my thighs were becoming slender, my legs perhaps slightly longer! I noticed that the slippers weren't bothering my feet, no tighter than the shoes I had worn when I arrived here in Boston! My seat was changing too, becoming strangely softer with a feeling of being padded! The corset, which had been extremely torturous to me earlier, was now rapidly becoming more and more comfortable! "Oh...my God!" I whispered as I realized that I couldn't flex the muscles of my maleness anymore! Now when I tried, strange muscles further up would move! I didn't have to actually see it, I just knew. I began to tremble, my once male appendage now replaced with a even more dangerous feminine opposite! I said dangerous because, I was sure that with the change came the obvious possibility of having a child! I tried to stand, but it was too quickly and little blackened spirals began to form before my eyes. I leaned against the table and wiped the perspiration from my lip with quivering fingertips. The old man was at my elbow in an instant; it was a good thing too as I saw the floor begin to spin. My knees buckled and I lurched suddenly forward into the blackness that engulfed my mind. Chapter 6 I slowly opened my eyes. I was laying prone upon the bed. "Are thee well?" Rolling my head to the side I could feel a breeze blow across my face, the intervals between gusts was evident that it was someone fanning me, pushing the air by hand and not caused by an open window. I touched my forehead, where a cool damp cloth lay folded. Again the male voice spoke, "Are thee well, child?" "I...I..." I stammered, unbelieving that the soft voice emitted from my throat was my own. I could sense my eyes rolling back, but I once again willed myself to consciousness. I tried to raise my head and felt a hand upon my shoulder. "No, honey, you lie still for a few more minutes." My eyes wavered toward the voice, it was Eloisa. "You fainted." "Dropped like a sack of stones, thee did," interjected the man's voice. "It's not uncommon for young ladies to faint...it's usually caused by the corset being too tight. For some strange reason, men find it a very feminine thing to do." She smiled and removed the cloth, dipped it into cool water, wrung it out and reapplied it to my head. "We'll give her a few minutes to rest, then take the new Lady Evans to meet her husband." "Her? L...Lady Evans?" I was barely audible, but she heard me just the same. "Like it or not, thou will have to proceed with this charade..." the old man advised. "While thee were slumbering, we heard that Master Evans was asked to appear before the elders only a week ago. They are considering a term in prison for him, should he not produce proof of his wife soon." I pushed off the cloth and sat up before Eloisa could prevent me from doing so. "If...if that happens, my servitude may be sold to someone else?" "Quite possible lad...lass." The old man corrected himself. "It might serve thee well to hasten and rescue thy husband from his captors. Any idleness may place thee in others hands, where thee may not be able to bargain thyself with." I slowly rolled toward his side of the bed, the copious amount of the dress fouling my movement. The man offered his hand, I took it with a hesitant smile and gently stood to my feet. Once again, Eloisa began to smooth and shake out my dress. "What is it that I call myself while I am portraying Lady Evans? I should have a given name, wouldn't you think?" I wondered aloud, realizing that my feet were no longer uncomfortable in the shoes. They were actually loose enough to enjoy. "We were told that when he went before the elders the first time, he was also asked the same question," Eloisa said, looking toward the man. "I can't remember what it was he had said, though!" The man stared at the stones upon the floor. "I believe he said her name was...Rebecca. I believe we should also be referring to thee as Rebecca." "When you meet your husband, you will have to play the part of the dutiful wife...can you do this?" Eloisa asked, searching my eyes for the unknown. I nodded slowly. "I think I can...I'm sure I can do well enough to not embarrass Master Evans." The old man tapped my arm. "Unless in play, thou shouldst refrain from calling him 'Master Evans'. Use only his given name of Isaiah!" I nodded. "I shall." Then contemplated what he meant by his use of 'in play'...this term troubled me greatly. Eloisa glanced quickly at her friend. "We must hasten, Edmond. Rebecca should be seen by the elders of the village this evening. Can you act as her driver?" I thought about the use of his name, it was the first time I could recall actually hearing one. My mind wandered back to our earlier conversations, not once did I ever remember him introducing himself to me. My mind slowly returned to their discussion. Edmond nodded and shed his worn coat, removing a newer one from a hook upon the wall. "I know of a coach that would be suitable for Lady Rebecca to arrive in. It will only take a moment to retrieve both it and a team." We both watched as he disappeared outside, closing the door behind him. As my mind drifted, Eloisa commented on the situation I found myself in. "What you are doing for Mater Evans is a great thing indeed." I shrugged. "I am only doing it to shorten my duration of servitude." My eyes slowly returned to the mirror, reflected back was a young woman, a woman which could have been an older sister to Duncan. If not older, at least much more developed than other females her age...and sadly, it was me somewhere within that reflection. She fingered the quilting of the bed. "Should there arise issues of your marriage, are you prepared to handle them?" I glanced quickly at her. "Issues? What sort of issues?" Eloisa paused for a moment, and I could tell she was stalling. "Issues that only occur between a man and a woman." Her face reddened slightly. I felt my own grow warm. "Those issues will not happen between Master Evans..." "Isaiah," she interjected. I chose to ignore her. "...and myself. I am there only as a decoy for the elders...a wife for him to parade about the village. When I am through, I will revert back, and be off to the western boundaries of the civilization...perhaps as far west as Pennsylvania or the Indian territory that I have read so much about." She tipped her head slightly. "You have the warm blood of a woman coursing through your veins, certain situations may arise which will confuse you...feelings that may call you to question your very decisions." "I will be fine. I am a man after all." I straightened up proudly and tapped my chest. My finger came into contact with one of my pillowed breasts, which caused me to look down. "No...you're not," she reminded, her voice echoing in my head. "Oh God...what have I gotten myself into?" I whispered softly, under my breath. Chapter 7 I sat behind the old man who was driving; my seat was slightly lower in the coach. Beside me sat Eloisa. "You never said your name was Edmond?" I shouted above the horses hooves as the clacked upon the cobblestone street. "Thee never asked!" he shouted back. "Sit thee back and try to look regal, a 'real' Lady would never converse with her driver...other than to provide direction." I eased back into the coach's seat. "Edmond is right, you know. You must think of how you should react before actually doing or saying something." She smiled and gently adjusted the ballooning skirt I wore. "What should I expect when I meet Master Ev...Isaiah?" I rolled my eyes and frowned at my blunder. "He does know that 'his wife' is in Boston; Edmond had alerted him. However, he has refrained from saying anything to the elders...but he does not know that you were once male. So I think he is going for a rather dramatic introduction of you." She laughed, although I wasn't sure if it was at my expense. "How so?" I asked. Edmond glanced over his shoulder at me as he continued to drive. "The elders believe thee don't exist, it is thy husband's intention to prove to thy elders, that thee do! Master Evans has staged a emergency meeting today, without them knowing thee are really in town! Thy elders are sure to be furious...it is with this element of surprise that Master Evans hopes to dissuade them of any doubt." "I'll never pull this off, they'll see right through me!" I rolled my eyes and frowned, nervous tension slowly began to build in my stomach. "Whatever it takes, thy better hope thee pulls it off! Thy alternative could mean a worse fate for all of us!" "When we meet, should I bow, shake his hand...act miffed or what exactly should I do?" I quickly grabbed my hat as it lifted slightly from my head caused by the breeze of our motion. "Bowing?" she laughed. "Never! Most likely he will take you by the hand and help you to the ground. You must act demure and just follow his lead. A curtsy perhaps would be in order, even drop your eyes slightly as you do so. A kiss upon his cheek would not be out of the ordinary. Remember, it has been awhile since you have been with him, or at least that is what the elders think." I nodded, studying the homes and businesses as we clopped by. The townspeople that we encountered just stepped aside and allowed us to pass, and some even doffed their hats at us. "Why do the men tip their hats as we pass?" I asked aloud, not really expecting an answer. "They are being both respectful and courteous to us." I knitted my brows because I was confused by her response. She continued, "It is polite for them to respect a woman, especially one who is dressed as a very noble woman." "Me?" I asked, sighing as I realized what she meant by her comment. "You, Rebecca." She again reached across and adjusted the protective covering worn over my elaborate gown. As we approached the gate of our meeting place, we were passed by another carriage heading out. In it was an older noblewoman was riding, driven by her uniformed driver. It was quite apparent that she wore a wig, powdered, combed thoroughly, and white as snow. I felt my hand snake toward my own tresses. Eloisa noticed and gave me a quick shake of her head. "She is of the old world, while you are young and modern. You won't wear a lice ridden wig like her, no modern woman would! Many of your former English countrymen refer to the modern colonists like we are as... natural." I lowered my hand down slowly and thanked her with a nod of my head. Inwardly, I gave a sigh of relief, for the wig looked uncomfortable and extremely hot. "Then, I am a natural...woman." I sighed under my breath. Eloisa closed her eyes and gave me another slight nod of agreement. "Hush now...we are almost there," she said as she recognized the area we were entering. Suddenly it felt as a thousand winged insects were suddenly fluttering in my stomach! I leaned against the side and slowly rubbed my temple. I trembled as I realized that I was trapped in this frail young woman's body! I was locked as a woman for as long as was needed to play out this ruse for this man! I felt the coach slowing down to make a turn into a long tree-lined drive, toward a house that lay back away from the street. I knew that if I died today, they would be burying the body of a young woman...the wife of a colonial noble. That would be what they would all see, but I had to hold on to the boy hidden deep inside this feminine body... "Hold fast, Duncan Bailey! Hold fast to your dreams!" I said to myself, reminding me that I once was as male as the man who was playing my husband. As the coach slowly rolled toward the stately home, I felt Eloisa's hand lightly grasp mine. "You are ready for this, child...you'll do fine." I nodded as several older gentlemen spilled onto the topmost stairs, standing like important statues in a museum. Behind them pushed a tall young man; his splendid clothing bespoke his rank in society. "Rebecca!" several voices whispered as I sat quietly, held back in the gentle grasp of Eloisa. Eloisa stood and turned toward me, deftly removing the protective clothing over my gown. Whispering softly, barely in an audible voice said, "Follow Isaiah's lead...act the dutiful wife. He will probably kiss you upon your neck as is custom, however he may kiss your lips. It is a sign of intimacy." I avoided glaring my response to her, but through my fabricated smile I hissed, "It is rude for him to kiss my lips! I will allow him to kiss my cheek, but it will stop there!" She squeezed my hand rather tightly. "He is your husband! It would be foolhardy, before all of these people for him to kiss you in any other way which is not intimate. Remember you are his wife...don't embarrass him!" Again she squeezed my hand, it was tight and hurt slightly. I never even turned my head to acknowledge that anything had transpired between us, yet my heart was pounding like a drum in my chest! Following the man with my eyes to the side of the coach, I forced a smile. Isaiah was tall and had wavy brown hair, it was pulled back into a short tail in the back. His clothing was impeccable, he carried himself with style and nobility as he approached. As he saw me, there was a brief twinkle in his powdery blue eyes, almost as if surprised by my appearance... but thankfully, he never let on. "Rebecca, my love, at last you arrive!" He held out his hand, surprising me that my own, when placed in his, was very petite in size. Slowly, I worked my way through the coach's opening, aided by Eloisa who was bending the gown's billowing skirt to allow my escape. Chapter 8 I finally stood upon the tiny crushed stone of the drive, and Isaiah took both of my hands in his and kissed them deeply. "You've been gone so long, my love, I had feared for your safety!" He spoke loud enough for them to hear. My mind began to scramble desperately for answers to his implied question, and with a deep breath I found my voice. "I...I took ill before the ship crossed from England. When I finally was able to travel, my journey was long and quite tedious." I spoke softly, allowing my English accent to sell the country of my birth. "It is so good to be with you again, Isaiah." Before I could speak further, Isaiah grabbed me in a great hug and kissed me deeply upon the mouth, his lips hungry with fabricated desire. At least, that was my hope. I did my best to try to return his act, closing my eyes to shut out the feminine response I was performing. When he finally broke his kiss, he held his gaze upon my face, lightly touching my cheek with his large hand. I studied his own face for a moment, as would have been expected. He was clean-shaven with longer sideburns that came to the edge of his chin and turned slightly inward. His hair was a soft brown, set off by the pale blue of his eyes. Isaiah stood well over six feet in height, while I felt very tiny at just over five feet now since my change. He gently took my hand and placed it upon his strong arm, leading me up the stairs toward where the old scowling men had gathered. As we passed, they gave me a slight tip of their heads, which I returned in kind. Slowly the crowed filtered inside and the elders took their seats at a long table. After everyone had settled down, one of them cleared his throat. "We see now why you convened this meeting." Another man, white haired with a young face, glared toward me. "And your name is...?" Isaiah straightened, bristling at their audacity; they knew full well who I was...or should be. It was evident that they were very perturbed that he had just informed them of my arrival to Boston. Even before Isaiah could exchange harsh words with the elder, I stepped forward. "I am Rebecca Evans, Isaiah's wife." "How should we believe this farce?" He looked toward his companions seated at the long table. "Why is he now able to produce this...this female? Why has it taken so long for her to arrive when many others have arrived in well short of her travel time?" He scowled at me, his disbelief evident by his glare. I straightened up, as what was left of the male blood in me boiled. "You, sir, know very well my name...what, pray tell, is yours?" He glared at me. "How dare you...a mere insolent child...and a woman at that, address me in such a tone!" "It is a simple question, good sir," I said politely. Another gentleman at the table laughed and leaned forward. "Young Mrs. Evans, I am called Master Terhune. Can you please tell Master Kuhnart why it has taken you so long to arrive?" "Why yes, kind sir, I shall," I replied with as much regal dignity as I could muster. I wanted to sound like the noble woman I portrayed. As I approached closer, I scrambled within my mind to come up with a reason which might embarrass the grouchy old man who had addressed me so rudely. Finally a reason came across. A reason which I thought was all too common among any community. Turning toward Isaiah, I asked, "Dearest? How long has it been since we last spoke in person?" I was stalling for time, I was sure they knew it. His mind worked quickly. "It's been almost eight months, Rebecca." He gave me a curious look, but I knew that the length of time would be aware to all of them and yet might help me devise an appropriate answer. I looked again toward the scowling old man who had addressed me so rudely, purposefully mispronounced his name. "Master Kuhnart, IF there is truly a need to know, well then...I shall tell you." Again my mind raced for something reasonable to say. "There is lass! Out with the reason!" he barked, his face reddening with anger. "The elders, who are seated before you, will deem if your reason carries merit." Enough time had passed that a brazen idea popped into my head! Hopefully it would be convincing enough to quell any suspicions from this group of old men. "Just after my husband Isaiah left for the colonies, I found myself with child." I paused for effect - Eloisa gave me a shocked glance as I continued. "When I was sent for by Isaiah, I found myself into my fourth month. That infant, our child, was miscarried on the very day before I was supposed to leave for Boston. I was compelled by my mother to wait until I was sufficiently healed before embarking on the very next ship... the one that brought me here." I folded my arms in an almost unladylike manner, then I quickly dropped my arms to my side before I hoped anyone noticed. "But of course, what would a MERE man know of the affairs of women? How could a young woman explain the pain of a miscarriage to a man who might double in pain when he strikes a blow to his thumb with a hammer? Isn't it true that a man could never hope to know the threshold of a woman's pain?" I added even before I could stop myself, then wondered just what I was thinking by challenging him. Master Kuhnart's face grew red once again in response, but this time he looked downward. At that moment, Isaiah resumed his acting role. "If I had only known, Rebecca...I would have been on the very next ship for England..." I placed my fingers against his lips, quelling his verbal apology. "There is no need for apologies, dear husband. How could you have known?" I glared at the old man who had addressed me so rudely, as he tried to hide his face from my sight. Across the room from him stood an old woman who was also scowling at him, I could only assume that it was his wife. I held my hand out, and Isaiah promptly placed his arm under it. "Now gentlemen, it has been a long voyage, and I am quite tired. Allow me leave so I may be reacquainted with my husband." The men all stood and smiled but one, it was the bad seed who leaned against his fists on the table. "You may be able to fool the others at this table, but I am not as easily fooled!" He glared even more, giving him the expression of a bulldog. "I am not convinced you are actually his wife! There has been sufficient time for me to have the ship's manifest checked. There was no Rebecca Evans aboard the Endbreeze!" Isaiah stepped forward. "Many who are aboard the ships from England aren't logged into the manifest, and you know that!" He glared back and pointed toward a young man standing at the end of the table. "Wasn't one of your own servants brought here without being upon a ship's manifest?" The old man bristled because he could not dispute Isaiah's statement. "Servant yes! But we're talking of a so-called noblewoman! I will be watching, and I have others who will also be watching you too! Do not attempt to leave anytime soon!" I paused, glaring at him once again. Slowly walking to the table with my gown billowing about my feet, I replied, "What have I ever done to you, that you should go to such great length to disapprove of me? Have I somehow caused you great anguish or pain? Why do you doubt me so?" I too grew angry at his reluctance of belief. "Or is it, sir, that you have something to hide that by taking it out on me? Perhaps you are trying to divert our attention elsewhere!" He jerked his head as if I had slapped him. "Why there is no such... I..." I looked at the rest of the table, and I saw that they all had smirks on their faces. To them I nodded and smiled, "Gentlemen, I take my leave." I was no longer asking this time; it was a finality. As we filed out of the building, I heard one of the older men laugh, saying, "That little one has a bit of fire in her! A bit of fire indeed, wouldn't you say so, Simon?" I felt vindicated and sensed a bit of the fire they spoke of. I had always thought of myself as a young man who spoke his mind. After my transformation, why shouldn't I have become a young woman who also speaks her mind? I walked slowly away with Isaiah, wondering if this was how a 'modern, natural' woman would behave. I could only hope the Simon I heard one speaking to, was the old white haired man I just told off. Inwardly, I smiled. Chapter 9 Isaiah tied his horse to the back of the coach, and helped me into the seat before climbing in himself. Together we rode in the rear seat toward his home. I could tell that Edmond was listening in, but as yet, he stayed away from speaking. Eloisa sat opposite me staring out toward the sparkling Harbor. Finally Isaiah looked from me toward Edmond and laughed, saying, "You sure are a spitfire of a lass! Where did you find her, Edmond?" I smiled, answering for Edmond. "I was on the ship, Master Evans. I am, actually, Duncan Bailey. As for the fire, I guess I get it from my mother. She too, had a fiery English temper." "A young lad then! You pass for a woman remarkably well...how is this so?" He gave Eloisa a quick glance. "It is a sort of magic, Master Evans," Eloisa answered softly. "It is not black art...he can be changed back when we are ready to do so." Isaiah studied me for several seconds before responding. "So...which name are you going by while in this attire? Duncan or Rebecca?" he asked without turning his head away from me. "Rebecca," I replied softly, not knowing how he was going to react to this new news. "It was the name you chosed, and now, the entire town knows me by that name, too. As long as I'm a woman, I will use that feminine name." "How can you, a male, allow this sort of change to happen? For me to be changed as you, I would surely die!" He turned slightly, and his arm quickly was removed from behind my shoulders as he spoke to both Eloisa and me. Isaiah expression exhibited equal parts of disbelief, awe and amusement as his eyes darted between the three of us. "What you are saying isn't possible... It it can't be! To go from completely and totally male, to one hundred percent female... remarkable, simply remarkable, Duncan!" He shook his head in unbelieving astonishment. "Is this a remarkable time we live in? Simply fascinating!" I felt a tremble race through my shoulders. "My former gender is of no consequence; I agreed to portray your wife as long as needed. Only for this act, I expect my freedom from servitude. As for the name, for now you must continue to call me Rebecca. To fail to do so may result in your ruse being discovered...and if that should happen, we all could be locked away in the stocks!" I stared at him, then returned my gaze to Edmond's back. "You are a very smart...eh...young woman. If you wish to use the name Rebecca outside of playing the part of my wife, suit yourself. However, for what you are doing for me, I WILL reward you handsomely!" "Don't forget Edmond and Eloisa. Without them, this all wouldn't have been possible. As for me, you know what I want," I reminded him, emphasizing my point once again. He smiled at them both as they quickly glanced up, after hearing their names. "...I will also pay them handsomely." Isaiah studied the embroidery patterns on the front of my gown before speaking. "I find this... you... so fascinating!" He quickly glanced toward the sun, then toward the others. "Since it has been such a long day, when we arrive at my...our home, I would like you all to sup with me...and...my wife Rebecca. There is much we need to discuss!" "Oh?" I answered, thinking about my early release of servitude. He gave me a handsome smile, and I felt my stomach began to flutter. Once again, the phantom insects were taking flight. Why should his smile bother me so? Why would I think of it as being handsome in the first place? Chapter 10 As our carriage pulled in toward what I assumed was his home, I was surprised as to how average it appeared to be on the outside. Compared with the homes of people in Isaiah's class back in England, theirs were far more opulent than this two-story home. It couldn't have more than seven to ten rooms in total! There were long overlapped boards which were stacked from bottom to top, these lined the outside of the home and created a pleasant siding. On the roof of both buildings were thin overlapped and staggered boards which had been lain with one row over the other until it reached the peak. There were very few windows in the entire structure; from where I sat, I could see only four tiny, square windows of no more then the length of my arm. Two of the windows were up at the second floor and two at the first floor. Windows in the colonies were very scarce, usually having to be shipped from Europe unless you knew of a skilled tradesman nearby. I could just make out a stone-lined walkway to the side of the home that led toward the back and out of my view. It appeared to have been lined with flowers and shrubbery, and was probably very pretty in the warm months. All about the home stood huge old trees, towering above like sentinel guarding the grounds. Behind this large rectangular box-like home, was an even smaller, possibly two-room structure. It was apparent that this was neither the house's livery, nor a carriage house. Looking at it closely for windows, I noticed that there were none in the smaller building at all. "What is that building?" I asked as Isaiah was helping me down from the carriage. He turned his head in the direction I had indicated. "That is the home that...our servants live in." His hesitation reminded me that had I not extended my neck to help him, I too would have been living there with its current residents. It would seem that as soon as he spoke, a skinny young man and a pudgy young woman stepped out of the house. The man trotted toward us and caught the reins, effectively holding still the carriage, while Edmond climbed down from the carriage. Isaiah stepped down and assisted me to the ground, deftly lowering me down with each of his strong hands upon my now tapered waist. The woman stood at the bottom of the step, smiling as though she was meeting the Queen. "Oh, m'ladyship!" she gushed. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!" Her thick accent seemed like a cross between Irish and Scottish. I smiled at her as she quickly grabbed my hand. "Master Ku...uh...had a rider stop by and said you were in the village, I knew you'd be hungry and fixed some supper for you and Master Evans." "Rebecca, this is Anne." She curtseyed and smiled brightly. "Anne, please set two extra plates as my friends will also be supping with us." With a nod of her head, she turned and quickly disappeared behind the wide door. He smiled, still leading me by the hand toward the home's entrance. "Thankfully, we only have the two. Anne's young husband helps me take care of this house, horses and grounds. They entered into servitude when I purchased their passage over to this land." I glanced backwards; Eloisa was a few steps behind me, and Edmond and the male servant were leading the horse into an additional building that appeared to be a livery. With both of the servants out of earshot, Edmond preoccupied with the horse and Eloisa far enough behind that I was confident she wouldn't hear, I whispered softly to Isaiah, "Did you hear what Anne had said?" Isaiah frowned. "No, actually I didn't...what did she say that I missed?" It felt strange to be walking and talking with a grown man, with him holding his arm around my waist. I pushed the strangeness aside and continued, "She said a rider came by and informed them that I had arrived. The name she used, sounded like she was going to say Master Kuhnart, or someone sounding very much like that name." I paused to see if he was catching on. As his eyes narrowed slightly, I knew that he and I were now thinking alike. "He did say that he would have us watched. The rider warning them just proved it!" Isaiah's jaw flexed in anger, and I glanced toward the door we were approaching. "He must have sent out a rider as soon as we left." I pushed a long hair back under my hat. "They would have had to ride like the wind to beat us here!" "There are quicker ways to ride that would have beaten us by several minutes; a single rider on a fast horse could cover the ground in a fraction of the time." "So what do we do?" I asked, fearful of the answer. "We must be watchful...and very careful!" He exhaled though his nose, the sound was made in frustration of our predicament. "I never would have thought Anne could be so devious..." "Perhaps, it isn't Anne who is working with Master Kuhnart?" I commented. Isaiah turned his head the same time as I did, and we saw the skinny man glance toward us as we climbed the steps into the house. I wondered if he was the spy. The interior of the home was furnished remarkably well; it was obvious that Isaiah was a man of some substance. Just beyond the small foyer we were standing in, sat a comfortable looking sitting room. In the other direction, I could just make out the end of a large table. Opposite to where